but you can't take the sky from me
#1
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She had put up a gravestone, so he thought he should visit again, perhaps for the last time. Arkham did not much like dwelling on things that couldn't be changed, but it happened all too often regardless. Things changed, people changed, people died, relationships died. And things kept changing. He liked closure, but many things in life left no closure. This would probably be one of them, but he had to make due with what he had. He had but a single memory to live on, and that would just have to be enough.


The forest was white like the city; the snow took away many differences, and he wasn't sure where he felt more at home. Perhaps neither. They were both distant and cold, unfeeling and quiet. The trail of his cloak dragged in his wake, but his hood had been pulled back by the wind. The minty scent was ever-fading, and he wasn't sure that he cared to change that anymore. There was no one to hide from anymore, but perhaps he was still a little bit ashamed of where his blood had come from. And maybe he was still a little bit afraid of it. it was snowing again. By the time he started back, his footsteps might already be covered.


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#2
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I really had no idea how to reply to this.



He'd come such a long ways from home, having started walking and never stopped. They didn't need him there right now, did they? No. He was the only leader, but he hardly saw hide nor tail of any of his little underlings, too busy managing from a distance and keeping busy himself. Iskata was always whining and wasting away in a cabin or the barn, with Skylar in tow, of course. Tyrone was wandering back and forth wherever he wanted, usually with his father--that is, if DaVinci would stay in the packlands long enough instead of frolicking off to Inferni. Jefferson wasn't stopping him and his little romance. The cyclops didn't know what love could do to a guy, and he didn't want to know. He wasn't about to get in its way and get the claws to the face.


Jefferson had shifted after leaving the packlands, despite the wind chill. Had it snowed at some point recently? Hell, he didn't know. He'd stopped paying attention to the days and weeks and people. He'd stopped a lot of things. The creature was falling into the pit Laruku had been in, somehow, and he hated it. He hated it, and he reveled in it.


A figure fell into his view, cloaked and striding as wistlessly as he. They passed by each other silently, and after a few seconds' time, the cyclops tipped his head to the sky and spoke, even as his legs kept moving. "Don't know what you're hiding from," he said simply. It had just been what came to mind. The hood of the boy's cloak was lowered, but it seemed only due to the wind that had picked up. It was far too cold to hide from the wind--without a hood, for example. Then again, Jefferson walked unprotected from the cold, somber, and vulnerable.

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#3
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Arkham really wasn't one to pass someone without a word. It probably stemmed from his constant desire for company and conversation, for some distraction, for some way to spend time. It disturbed him that so often, time slipped by and he didn't notice because there was nothing to mark the occasion, and nothing to use as landmarks into the past. No life should be so empty, even if it was him. And yet, he had been silent when the stranger passed by; there never seemed like there was anything to say, any significant thing he should remark on that would begin a conversation. Indeed, even those words that did end up being exchanged, the coyote felt they were usually too forced and contrived. Meaningless.


I'm not hiding from anything, he said, turning around. The harsh wind was blowing against the side of his head and his ears were cold, but his breath was warm. His answer could be considered a lie. There were things he hid from, but they were not important enough for him to not answer if prompted. Besides, maybe it wasn't really hiding if there was a mutual agreement. They had said goodbye; perhaps they would never meet again. That wasn't really hiding, was it?


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#4
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I'm sorry! I have no idea why I keep neglecting this thread. Kick me!


There was a sort of foreign air to that creature; Jefferson couldn't quite understand it, but yet this stranger seemed somewhat familiar to him, and the one-eyed brute hated to think any further into that feeling. It seemed whenever he managed to find someone who struck him as familiar somehow, it turned out they were related in some way or fashion. At this point, Jefferson could only assume as such when there were so many of his relatives running amok out there. In the end, he tended to just learn their names and go on his way without any other intention of contacting or interacting with them further.


The coyote he'd stumbled upon was still a young one, but there was an aged experience set to him that the cyclops immediately recognized. Jefferson straightened his back a little, steps ceasing. He slowly turned to peer his green eye at the boy, trying to get something of a closer look. Perhaps he was wrong... he wasn't sure how familiar this creature was, after all. "You're young," Jefferson found himself saying. "You'll have plenty to hide from someday." Why not get started now, he wanted to add.

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